A Wooden Figurine
by Who-said-I-like-you
Summary: ONE-SHOT  A Golden-Eyed Slave, a Spartan Prince, and a Jealous Wind Intertwine and Dance the Flowing Moves of Tragedy...


There was once a boy named Hyacinthus. He was a Spartan prince and this is his story.

"Hyacinthus! Hyacinthus, where are you? Hyacinthus!" I heard my 'friend's' call but I refused to tear myself from my carving. I was making small figure of the great Apollo so that I could worship his where ever I may go.

"There you are! Did you not hear me shout for you? Ah well. Come now for your father has sent for us." More like I, I thought before tucking my almost finished piece into my tunic. All I needed to do was the face. But I do not know it. There are few statues and paintings of the Grand God Apollo, though we worship him.

As my 'friend' and I arrived at the palace, a slave led us to the throne room. There stood the most majestic man I ever laid my eyes on. Golden curls that shone like the sun. Bronze skin and the most beautiful and shocking golden eyes. I stood in awe for a few moments before noting what he was wearing. Slave grab. This made me wonder how the Gods let this beautiful man be a slave. He should be a king. Or maybe even one of the Gods themselves.

"Ah, Hyacinthus. You have asked for a slave for many nights. I have refused you until now. May I present to you, your slave, Phoebus." Phoebus bowed to me. It felt wrong. I was the one who should bow to him, not the other way around.

I nodded in return and was excused. My 'friend' left soon after. Phoebus followed me to my chambers. He simple stood next to the door, waiting for an order.

"Can you keep a secret? Even from my father?" His sun-eyes focused on me and he smiled, nodding. And I was struck with the reason he was called 'Brilliant'. Pulling out my Apollo figure, I said,

" I have ben carving this figure of Apollo. It is made of wood as I can not make good figurines out of marble, gold, or any other metal. I have made it so that I can worship the Great Apollo wherever I go. I do not make one of Master Zeus because..." I trailed off. Phoebus raised an eyebrow but continued to smile. Though it seemed to have softened.

"May I speak, Master?" I nodded and replied that as long as we were alone he could speak at any time. "Thank you, Master. Could the fact that you don't create a figure of the Grand Zeus because of what he does to Apollo? If that is true then you must hold little love for Aphrodite or her son, Eros." I shook my head. Zeus took away Apollo's beloved son, Aesculapius. Apollo's reaction was earned. Could Zeus really think himself so great as to not expect a reaction? And then making the Great Apollo a SLAVE? It angered me. And of Aphrodite's and Eros' playing of Apollos' heart was unjustly cruel. Most of his lovers fled from him or died. And yet Beauty and Love kept hurting him time after time.

Phoebus listened to me as I ranted and listened some more as I swooned over Apollo. He did not laugh or say that the Grand Apollo would never notice or love a mere mortal like me. When I finished and collapsed into my bed he simply redressed me in my nightwear and replied,

"If you truly love the God of Truth then he will take notice. AFter all, the Archer god has been known too take male lovers as well." And with that he left for his own, lesser chambers.

I dreamed of the Great Apollo that night. He smiled and shown and stroked my hair, my face, and my hand. He murmured sweet words in his musical voice. He took out his/my figure and as soon as he touched it, it completed itself and let out a golden glow. I tried to thank this divine deity bu the silenced me with a kiss on my forehead and a finger to my lips. I became a puddle at his very touch.

He left soon after.

I learned that it wasn't a dream. My figure of the Healer was completed with his glorious features. The glow remained and cast a shine on surrounding places.

Phoebus walked in as I was in awe of the Beautiful Apollo. I showed it to him and he gave me the soft grin before helping me into my training gear.

Every night I 'dreamed' of Beloved Apollo. Every night he left me with a kiss on my brow. Every night he preformed some Godly task. Every morning, Phoebus heard what happened in the night. Every morning he just smiled in that way of his. Every morning I came to realize that while I loved Apollo, I also loved my slave, in the same way.

I waited for Phoebus to come to fetch me from my training field. My comrades had left long before. Even my beloved gos had left me. I sighed after waiting a few moments more before starting to set out for the Palace. I took on more tan a step when a blinding flash made me shield my eyes. I heard a chuckle. A familiar chuckle. I let down my hands when the blinding, golden light dimmed.

There was Phoebus.

Phoebus was dressed in pure white robes. Laurel leaves upon his curly head. A soft gold glow cast a shine on surrounding places. A lyre in his hand.

Phoebus Apollo.

I dropped to my knees and lowered my eyes in submission. A blush ver took my cheeks as another chuckle flooded my ears.

"You need not bow, my sweet prince." I looked up at those golden eyes that mesmerized me night and day. He smiled that grin of his and stepped towards me and kneeled until his chin hovered far above my black curls. His strong, able hands cradled my head and lifted my face to meet his. Hi glorious lips brushed mine and I flung myself at him, losing all my composure. I was undignified but I did not mind. My beloved didn't seem to mind, either.

My dear divine being continued to masquerade as my slave. I was both joyful and unhappy. He did not get the respect he deserves and yet he is with me at all time. There is nothing I wouldn't give to continue this way. But I knew one day to would end. I prayed that it wouldn't be soon.

"Hyacinthus? Are you awake?" Asked the musical voice of Apollo, resting on my bed. I looked up at my lover in answer. He smiled causing me to grin.

"My punishment is soon to be over. I won't be able to visit as often." My smile faded at his words. I clutched at he blanket covering his chiseled chest. His hands came to cradle my cheeks and he softly kissed me.

"What did you do to earn your punishment? Though I hope it didn't feel like one." I asked when he let me go.

"No, it was not a punishment, my sweet prince." I blushed as I always do when he calls me that. "I had gotten angry at Eros and broke one arrow. And so I was once again sentenced to earth as a slave. It did backfire on Zeus. Unless it was the plan all along to make me meet you." He looked thoughtful, giving me time to peck him on the lips.

Quickly he turned us so that his hard body lingered over my own. HIs right hand wandered to my waist as his left held him upright. Dear Apollo the proceed to tickle my side until my giggles turned into pleas to stop.

The next morning, Apollo and 'Phoebus were gone.

I wandered in the fields, letting my beloved's touch warm my being. I giggled when I saw that my 'friend', who gave me a long scratch the day before in training, was greatly sunburned. I smiled most of the day.

Than he came.

The he in question was the god of the West Wind, Zephyr. He was tall, but still shorter than Apollo. He had dark brown hair in contrast to Apollo's sun curls. His eyes were blue. An ungodly, mortal color unlike Apollo's glorious golden eyes. His features were handsome, but all were slightly plain in comparison to my beloved's.

My father was amazed at this rich man who came to make an alliance with Sparta. I prayed to Zeus, Athena, and of course Apollo, that my father wouldn't go through with it. For the West Wind wanted me in return. As a slave or a spouse, I do not know.

When Apollo came that night, he was angry in a jealous way. He demanded to know what Zephyr said exactly. His change from peaceful, warm, and easy going to angry, cold, and unbearable strict was unnerving. But once Apollo cooled off, the only result was two bruises around my writs which disappeared with a kiss, my Dear Lord apologized with promises and sweet words and even sweeter kisses. And as the Honest Apollo never tells an untruth, I laid my faith that it will never happen again.

And yet Zephyr kept hounding me as we waited to see if my father accepted his deal.

"Dear Hyacinthus, what ales you today? You do not seem as cheery as most say you are."

"Simply because one says another is one way does not mean that they are," I replied. Apollo had not visited lately. I do not know if that is good or bad. I clutched the pouch with my Love's figure in it.

"You clutch your bag as though it will be stolen from you. Why? Do you have something to hide?" I glared at him as his eery grin grew.

"What my Sweet Prince does is none of your concern, Zephyr." My beloved's voice rang out from behind me.

"Apollo. Don't you have a carriage to ride or something vital alike? You are the God of Light after all," came Zephyr's sneering voice. I felt Apollo's chest on my back and I leaned into him, as he wrapped his strong, muscled arms around my own flat chest.

"You have ship to sail, as well, West Wind."

"If ships do not sail, the people will not die for lack of food, Light."

"Sailers will. I suggest tending to them before I get Zeus and Artemis involved. You know how much she hates men."

"And yet you killed Orion. And she was so happy with him." I felt Truth shrug.

"I helped her keep the vow she made. She would have come to regret it."

"Of course you would know. But wouldn't it be better just to warn the Moon and let Love run his course, Prophet?"

"She would have been angered that I did not stop her from disrespecting her vow if he died after, which is what was fated before he was born. I just quickened the process. WE have put the past behind us." Zephyr sneered at my Beloved.

A week later, my father denied Zephyr's offer. I was more important than extra gold. My beloved visited my bad in celebration. I woke with my thighs sticky with his being.

I was forced to bath against my will.

It was a rare day when my Archer stayed with me throughout the day. I wished to show off my skills at the discus. Apollo enjoyed the game, but we had never played against each other.

We stripped to begin, but when we were finally able to play, my thighs were once again sticky with Apollo.

We played many rounds, and we seemed easily matched. Soon, Zephyr began to blow. My beloved wished to stop and play another day, but I pleaded with him for a few more tosses. MY beloved conceded with a kiss, and threw the stone with mostly strength mixed with skill. I ran to the stone as it reappeared from the clouds. I laughed in joy.

I heard Apollo scream,

"LOVE!"

Before the black came.

THE END.


End file.
